


The Definition Of Help

by TheInevitableSense



Series: A List Of Definitions [4]
Category: Crucible Cast Party - SNL Sketch, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abuse Aftermath, Alexander Hamilton: Actually Doing A Half-Decent Job, Cody Shuck: A Mental Health Mess Who Needs Help, Discussed Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hospitalization, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Past Abuse, Peggy Schuyler: Wants To Punch Thomas Jefferson In The Dick, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Thomas Jefferson: Also Needs Help But Needs A Punch In The Dick More
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 11:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8889097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInevitableSense/pseuds/TheInevitableSense
Summary: The moment Alexander shuts the apartment door behind them, Cody sags, all of the energy draining out of his body at once.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [exadorlion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exadorlion/gifts).



> This wasn't supposed to have a fourth part but fuck it.
> 
> As always, exadorlion is the one to blame.
> 
> (As always, I adore you darling.)

The moment Alexander shuts the apartment door behind them, Cody sags, all of the energy draining out of his body at once. Alexander struggles to catch him, slipping one of Cody’s arms over his shoulder and pulling him close to his side. Alexander leads Cody down the stairs of his apartment building, the younger boy leaning heavily into his shoulder. The stairs are slow going, Alexander has to watch their feet to make sure Cody isn’t going to trip and fall.

Cody is silent, which scares Alexander. He wants to get the boy talking, if just to fill the quiet. If Cody starts talking, maybe Alexander can think of something to say that would help him. But the other man feels almost like dead weight in his arms and Alexander has to focus on just getting him down the stairs safely.

_Damn this building for not having an elevator_ , he thinks bitterly, _Damn Thomas for all of this_.

Halfway down the third set, Alexander hears sniffling. He glances up for as long as he dares and sees the expected. Cody has started to cry, his first few tears leaving little trails down his cheeks. Alexander stops moving, and twists so that they’re looking at each other.

“Hey, hey now. You’re doing great. We’re almost at the bottom,” Alexander says. Cody brings his free and up and wipes at his face.

“Sorry,” he mutters, still sounding like Alexander, “I- I shouldn’t be crying, I know it’s bad to cry.” His voice hiccups. Alexander frowns.

“No, no no no no,” Alexander reassures, “if you need to cry, do.” Cody sniffs again.

“Thomas doesn’t like it when I cry. Says that you don’t cry. Ever.”

Alexander’s heart breaks for the millionth time tonight. Underneath it is a snap of anger towards Thomas, but Alexander buries it for the time being. “That’s not true. I cry all the time,” he says. Cody looks at him, disbelief in his eyes. Alexander nods. “I mean it.”

Cody looks away, still trying to stifle the tears. “I...I should go back upstairs. Make sure Thomas is okay.”

“He’s just fine,” Alexander says. “Come on now, just a few more stairs to go.”

“But-” Cody looks back up the stairs towards where they came. Alexander grabs his hand to get him to look back at him.

“If you want to go back, you can. I’m not going to stop you.” Alexander squeezes Cody’s hand tighter. “But I really think you should come with me.” Alexander waits, just barely keeping himself from pulling Cody down the stairs without regard for his wishes. He has to get Cody to the hospital willingly. Cody glances back up the stairs once, then nods. He puts his foot onto the next step down and Alexander just about lets out a sigh of relief.

After that, Cody manages to stand on his own feet more, but he still clings to Alexander like he’s the only buoy out to sea while Cody is stranded in a storm. They make it all the way down to the ground level and Alexander smiles. Cody offers a shaky smile in return, one hand holding onto Alexander’s work jacket like a vise. Now that they’re on flat ground, Alexander starts to plan his next moves.

Alexander leads Cody out of the building and to his car, slipping one hand into his pocket and unlocking the door. He helps Cody into the passenger seat and waits for the man to get settled. When Cody seems ready to go, Alexander grips the car door and says:

“Hey, I’m going to go grab a few things from your apartment. Do you have any requests?” Cody pauses, but shakes his head. Alexander goes to close the door but Cody’s hand shoots out.

“Wait,” he says. “Make…” he trails, looking afraid to ask whatever he wants of Alexander. Alexander smiles again.

“Yeah?”

Cody takes a breath and commits. “Make sure Thomas is okay. Please?”

Alexander nods tersely. “Sure. You stay right here, okay?” Cody nods and Alexander shuts the door. After a second of thought, he locks it and runs back to Cody’s building. He runs up the stairs as fast as he can- puffing a little when he reaches the top- and goes back into Cody’s apartment.

Alexander goes for Cody’s dresser first, knowing he’ll need clothes if he gets hospitalized. _When_ , he corrects in his head. There are few doubts in his head that Cody’s going to end up under medical custody. He throws open the dresser, intent on grabbing sweatpants and pajama shirts, things without elastics or ties, but he stops when he sees what makes up most of his top drawer.

Cody has dozens and dozens of show shirts. _The Crucible_ , _Phantom of the Opera, Rent_ and countless more. Alexander picks one up and looks at the back, thirty or so names are printed in two columns, alphabetized. Alexander quickly finds Cody’s name towards the bottom of the second column. Right, Cody is an actor.

_Cody is an actor_.

Alexander glances around the apartment, finally taking in all the signed posters on the walls. He grins, an idea forming in his head. Quickly, Alexander gathers as many shirts as he dares, selects a few pairs of pants, and starts to run around the space, pulling down any poster that has Cody’s name on it somewhere. He even spots a few playbills around and leafs through them quickly to check if Cody’s name is somewhere in there. He gathers the pile of papers and fabrics in his arms and starts to jog back out the door.

The sight of Thomas, still hunched over where he had left him, stops Alexander in his tracks. It doesn’t look like Thomas has moved. He’s just sitting there, staring at the floor and shaking. Alexander’s rage comes roaring back to the surface at the sight of the pathetic man. He wants to yell at the man again, scream until his voice gives out and then kick Thomas’ teeth in.

But if he starts now, he’s not going to stop for hours. Cody is waiting for him, and every moment that passes is another moment during which Cody could change his mind. So, instead of giving into temptation, Alexander juggles the things in his arms into a better grip, and heads out the door.

\----------

Good Alex doesn’t feel like Good Alex anymore. He left Thomas. He _abandoned_ Thomas when his boyfriend was obviously hurting. He feels ashamed, dirty, ungrateful; like the scum of the earth.

He feels like _he’s_ the Bad Alex now.

Bad Alex hits his head against the car window, feeling the impact reverberate in his skull. Each time he strikes the glass, he thinks of another adjective to describe how shitty of a person he is for leaving Thomas behind.

_Thud_. Detestable. _Thud_. Worthless. _Thud_. Useless.

He wonders vaguely how much force it would take to smash the window with his head.

Despite this, however, Bad Alex stays in the car. Alex is going to take him to see a doctor friend of his. A doctor who will agree with Bad Alex and let him go back home to Thomas; prove that they love each other and everything is just fine. Bad Alex is sure of it. He just...wants to hear someone else say it. He’s tired of being the only one saying it.

When Alex reappears with a bundle of clothes and papers in his hands, Bad Alex quickly stops hitting is head. He doesn’t want Alex to know what he was doing. Alex throws the things in his arms into the backseat and gets into the driver’s seat. He sticks the keys in the ignition and looks over at Bad Alex, giving him a once-over with his eyes. Suddenly, Bad Alex remembers that he’s got his feet on Alex’ car seat, having curled up during the time Alex had been gone. He immediately puts his feet on the car floor, bracing himself for Alex to reprimand him like Thomas did when Bad Alex had ridden in his boyfriend’s car.

Instead, Alex breathes a curse and twists around in his seat. He digs around in the backseat, mumbling to himself. Eventually, he re-emerges holding a pair of bright green slippers in one hand. “Here,” he says. “I forgot to grab you shoes.”

Bad Alex stares at the offered slippers. They’re fuzzy and look soft. Alex shakes them gently at him and Bad Alex blinks. He takes them reverently, holding them in his hands before he slips them on his feet. He was right. They’re really soft.

“Why do you have slippers in your car?” Bad Alex asks. Alex pulls out of his parking space and starts down the road.

“Dunno. They’ve been in here a while.” As he gets back onto the main road, Alex pulls his phone from his pocket. He hands it to Bad Alex. “The passcode is 846627. Find the contact for James Madison and text him your address. Then, call him and hand me the phone.”

“Why?” Bad Alex says, typing in the code before he forgets.

“He’s Thomas’ friend. I’m going to ask him to come get Thomas.”

Bad Alex finds ‘James Madison,’ opens a text conversation that’s days old and types his address out. He hits send, then dials the number. He hands the phone back to Alex, who presses it to his face.

“James? Yes! It’s Alexander…” Alex says. He talks louder on the phone than he does face-to-face. Bad Alex leans against the car door, watching buildings go by. “Look, I just texted you an address. Thomas is there, you need to go get him… No, I can’t. James, I-” Alex glances at Bad Alex for a second. “He might do something stupid if he’s left alone for too long… I _would_ , but I’ve got to… I need to go to the hospital… No! Not me, someone else. James, I need to call Peggy. Just go get him, okay? Quickly… thank you.” Alex slips the phone out from under his ear and ends the call. He looks over to hand the phone to Bad Alex and gasps.

“Alex! Don’t do that,” he says, grabbing onto Bad Alex’s shoulder. Bad Alex blinks, finally registering the throbbing in his head from where he’d been hitting it against the window again. “What would you do that for?” Alex sounds concerned, almost scared. Then he takes a breath and lets go of Bad Alex. When he speaks again, Bad Alex can hear the false control in his words. “Sorry, I freaked out. Would you please not do that anymore? It’s not safe.”

Mutely, Bad Alex nods. He goes to curl up into a ball again, but stops, his feet slipping back to the floor. Alex glances at him. “You can put your feet on the seat if you’d like,” he says. Bad Alex immediately pulls his knees into his chest again, relief flooding him from the security of the familiar position. There’s a breath of silence before Alex speaks again. “Could you find Peggy Schuyler in my phone and call her? Please?”

Bad Alex takes the phone and does as he asks, handing the phone back. This time, he doesn’t listen to Alex’s conversation. He just watches the buildings pass, noticing when it starts to rain. The water hits the window and streaks down. The pitter-patter of the water on the car roof is comforting. Bad Alex leans his head against the window, careful not to hit it again, and shuts his eyes.

It’s not long before the sound of the rain lulls him to sleep.

\----------

“Thomas?”

Someone puts a hand on Thomas’ shoulder and tries to push him up into a sitting position. Thomas doesn’t fight it, lets his body come back up and his head tilt upwards. He doesn’t look at whoever’s there, instead he stares at the ceiling. Thomas can feel himself crying, feels the tears run down his face in fat globs. He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting here, how long it’s been since Alexander grabbed Cody’s things and left.

“Thomas, can you look at me?” The person asks. Begrudgingly, Thomas looks down to find his best friend, James Madison crouched down in front of him. “Are you alright?”

Thomas can’t help but crack a smile. _Am I alright_? He screws his eyes shut and hangs his head. His hands have gone numb from how long they’ve been pressed into his sides. He almost feels like laughing.

“Everything’s gone to shit,” he says instead. “And it’s all my fault.”

“What do you mean?” James asks. Thomas just shakes his head.

“Leave me alone, James. I’ll just rot here. It’s what I deserve.”

“Now, I’m sure that’s not true,” James admonishes. Thomas actually does bark a little laugh at that.

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” he mutters.

“Then tell me.” James holds Thomas up by both of his shoulders.

“You’ll hate me,” Thomas warns.

“What could you do to make me hate you?” James asks.

\-----------

“...Thanks Peggs. We’ll be there in like, twenty minutes.” Alexander hangs up the phone and drops it into the cup holder. He glances over at Cody only to find that the man has fallen asleep sometime during his call with Peggy. Alexander sighs, and decided to let him rest. Cody’s been through a lot, he knows, _too_ much.

As he drives, he lets his thoughts wander back to Thomas. Maybe he shouldn’t have called James, should have just left Thomas alone. But, if he’d done that, and Thomas had done something to himself _and_ Cody had found out about it… Alexander doesn’t know what it would do to the kid. So calling James had been the objectively right choice, but that didn’t mean Alexander had to be happy about it.

Instead, Alexander daydreams about all the ways he would like to break Thomas Jefferson physically and mentally until he pulls into the hospital parking lot. Thank god for parking garages, it’s raining too hard to pull Cody into the hospital if the boy goes limp again. Speaking of which, the stoppage of the car didn’t seem to wake him so Alexander gets out of the car as quietly as possible. He takes off his blazer and tie and throws them in the backseat. No use being uncomfortable. Then he leans over and gently shakes Cody.

“Hey, we’re here,” he says. Cody stirs, looking up at him blearily, almost like a child awoken from a midday nap. He looks around, blinking in the dim light of the garage. He rubs his eyes, opens his door and stumbles out. Alexander, unprepared for the show of initiative, has to rush around the car but Cody seems to be standing well on his own. But when Alexander draws near, he reaches out for the older man and latches right back onto him.

For a second, it feels like Cody’s going to start talking but they’re nothing but their footsteps and the sounds of other cars in the garage. But he stays silent so Alexander does what he does best: talk. “So, my friend is a doctor here. Well, actually, she’s a psychiatrist. Which makes her a doctor, I don’t know why I acted like those were two different things? Anyway, her name is Margarita Schuyler, but everyone just calls her Peggy. Her sister is actually my landlady. That’s how I met her, through Eliza. Peggy’s really good at what she does. She’s actually _my_ psychiatrist. I’ve got bipolar, but I don’t really ever take my pills. I’m fine without them, really. It’s pretty mild.”

Alexander rambles as they get to the hospital proper, pass the information desk and head down the hallways that lead to the psychiatric wing. Alexander knows his way around this hospital a little _too_ well, but this way he can focus on keeping Cody distracted. He word vomits, eventually getting to the topic of hospital construction and architecture.

“I didn’t know that,” Cody mutters, cutting Alexander off mid-sentence.

“What, that hospital windows are really strong?” Alexander asks, thrilled Cody actually spoke again.

“That you have bipolar disorder,” he says. “I guess I just...missed that. How did I miss something that...big?”

“Hey, hey now,” Alexander reassures him, which feels odd. Reassuring Cody over the fact he didn’t perfectly impersonate Alexander doesn’t seem like what Alexander _should_ be doing to help Cody, but it’s the best he’s got right now. “I don't talk about it a lot, you know. There's a stigma to it, well, mental illness in general, but it's not a bad thing! Well, it's not good either, but...do you understand what I mean?”

Cody nods, going mute again. Alexander muffles a noise of frustration and returns to his lecture on window strengthening techniques.

They get to the psychiatric portion of the hospital and Alexander leads Cody into a waiting room. There's a few other people in the cushioned chairs, some with their noses in paperwork, others simply staring at the walls. One man is scratching at his wrist intermittently, in a set pattern. Alexander pulls Cody up to the nurse's station.

“Hi, how can I help you gentlemen?” the nurse smiles at them brightly. Alexander groans internally. _It's Helen_. Alexander knows she _must_ see that he and Cody look identical, but she doesn't comment. Cody leans into Alexander's side, not wanting to look up at the woman. Alexander clears his throat.

“Appointment for Cody Shuck?” He says. Cody shifts, but Alexander ignores him. “Dr. Schuyler-”

“Just came out in a rush, demanding I fit you in, yes.” She grips the pencil in her hand a little tighter. Alexander smiles apologetically.

“Sorry, it's just...it's important.”

“Perhaps you should have gone to the ER then,” the nurse says. Alexander shakes his head.

“Just give us the intake forms, please.” He says. He hates this nurse, never bothered to learn her real name but calls her Helen in his head. She doesn't work most days Alexander has an appointment, but she's here enough that Alexander can't stand the woman.

“I just need to confirm a few things,” she says, clicking around a computer screen. “Which one of you is Mr. Shuck?”

Alexander waits for Cody to speak up, but he doesn't. Helen looks up expectantly, looking more confused the longer the silence stretches on. Eventually, Alexander coughs. “He is,” he says, motioning at Cody.

“No I'm not,” the other man mutters. Helen cocks an eyebrow. _Shit_ , Alexander thinks. He leans into Cody’s shoulder.

“I know, Alex. But we need your birth name. What’s on your driver’s license, you know. The legal stuff.”

Cody frowns, but says. “Fine. I'm Cody Shuck.” Cody says his own name like it's a spell to summon a demon from hell, like the words physically hurt him to say. _Well, they might just_ , Alexander thinks. Mental illness is a strange beast. Helen looks at him suspiciously.

“Do you have proof of identification?” She asks. Alex curses, thinking Cody probably doesn't have his ID on him but he pulls out a small leather wallet and procures his driver’s license. Cody hands it to Helen, who looks between him and his picture with concern.

“It's makeup,” Cody mutters. He wipes at the corner of his eye and holds out his fingers. There's a smudge of dark makeup on them and Helen’s eyes light up in understanding. Alexander is confused until he remembers that the age lines on Cody’s face aren't real. Hell, his hair isn't even real but Helen doesn't mention anything about that. She asks Cody a few more questions, punches in a few things on her computer, then grabs a clipboard with a pen attached, slides a couple pieces of paper onto it, and then hands it to Cody.

“Fill that out and return it, okay?” She says without a smile. Cody nods and Alexander leads him to one of the waiting room chairs. Alexander guides him through it all, carefully reminding him to fill out the paperwork _as_ Cody. It’s a slow process, Cody complaining the whole while. It’s the most the boy has spoken since they left the apartment, but it’s something. Alexander gives the clipboard back to Helen and they wait. Cody curls back up into his little ball and Alexander pulls him into a hug. Cody melts into the touch, his face buried in Alexander’s chest. Alexander almost doesn’t catch Cody mumble something.

“What?” Alexander asks, softly.

“I shouldn’t have left Thomas,” Cody says. “I should be with him, should be-”

“Cody?” A woman’s voice calls. Alexander looks up, relieved to see Peggy standing there. Instead of reacting to what Cody has told him- outwardly of course, inwardly, he’s pissed at Thomas- he gently pushes Cody into an upright position.

“Over here,” Alexander says. Peggy’s gaze lights on them as Alexander coaxes Cody into a standing position. “Come on, let’s go meet Peggy, okay? Just across the room, do you see her?” Cody nods, and Alexander walks him to his friend. “Hey Doc,” he says.

“Good afternoon, Alexander,” she says. “This is your...friend? Cody?” She looks at Cody for confirmation, but Cody shakes his head.

“I’m Alexander,” he insists. “No matter what those dumb forms say, I’m Alexander.”

Peggy’s face stays controlled and neutral. She gives no indication of giving into Cody or standing against, but glances as Alexander. “Well, then,” she says, obviously picking her words very carefully. “Why don’t you and I go have a talk?” She asks Cody. Cody glances at Alexander.

“Can Alex come?” He asks. Peggy bites her lip, but Alexander speaks first.

“It’s probably best I don’t.” Alexander steps away from Cody, and the boy sways on his feet without support. Cody swallows, but nods.

“Fine,” he says. Peggy smiles, and leads Cody back into her office. Alexander sighs and resigns himself to waiting in silence for a while.

\----------

James hates him, Thomas can tell.

Not that James has said anything to that affect. In fact, he’s been almost dead silent outside of telling Thomas that he’s staying at Thomas’ place with him tonight. Thomas doesn’t look at him while James drives, doesn’t want to see the disappointment or rage on his friend’s face.

The ride is dead silent, both men mulling over what Thomas has done. It’s unspoken, but they both know that Thomas has fucked up.

There’s nothing more to say about it.

James eventually pulls into Thomas’ parking lot and gets out of the car. Thomas follows, shuffling behind Thomas, feeling like a puppy that just chewed a shoe and his owner just walked in. James leads Thomas into his bedroom, points to the edge of the bed and says “Sit right there and don’t move.”

“Kinky,” he jokes, but James just glares at him. So he sits still as James tears his bedroom apart. The man dives through every drawer and starts collecting things: Belts, clothing with elastics, scarves, the letter opener Thomas keeps by his bed. He even goes through Thomas’ shoes and takes anything with shoelaces. Thomas watches as James disappears into his bathroom and reemerges with every razor and pill bottle Thomas has.

“You should grab the hairspray too, then,” Thomas remarks, “I could set myself on fire with that stuff.” Once again, James is unamused by Thomas’ attempt at humor. But James does go back and grab the bottles of hairspray, and soon the pile of things in his arms is getting dangerously high.

_Heh_ , _‘dangerously.’_ Thomas thinks to himself. _It’s funny because I could kill myself with any of that stuff_.

Thomas would be lying if he said he hadn’t considered it during the car ride over.

James then leaves the bedroom, but Thomas can hear him moving about the house. He must be checking every individual room for things because it’s a very long time before James reappears, empty handed. Thomas has since laid down on his bed. He picks his head up as James comes back into the room.

“Wow. Where’d you put it all?” He asks.

“If I told you, that would defeat the purpose,” James says simply. James hesitates, then comes to sit on the edge of the bed. “Thomas,” he says, and Thomas can feel the oncoming slew of lectures and questions so he cuts his friend off.

“I know,” he says. James sighs.

“I don’t think you do.”

“I don’t think there’s any possible way I don’t know,” Thomas retorts. James inhales sharply. They don’t look at each other. Silence stretches on.

“Talk about it in the morning?” James asks.

“I’d prefer never.”

“In the morning, then. Dinner?”

“...do you think I have any appetite right now?”

“Just thought I’d offer.”

\-----------

Peggy comes back to the waiting room alone after what Alexander considers a worryingly long time. The moment she appears, he’s on his feet and crossing the room. Peggy lets him back through the door she had just come from and takes him to her office. Alexander is expecting to find Cody there, but he’s not.

“He’s in another room,” Peggy says, reading Alexander’s expression. “Sit.”

“How is he?” Alexander asks. Peggy sighs.

“He’s fucking fantastic,” she drawls. “The picture of mental health.”

“Okay, okay. Stupid question,” Alexander admits. Peggy throws herself into her chair behind her desk.

“I’ve decided to hospitalize him, Alex,” she says, crossing her arms. Alexander nods.

“I figured.”

“And I’m transferring his care to another psychiatrist.”

“What?” Alexander is dumbstruck. Peggy looks at him.

“Alexander, bringing him to me was the best decision you could have made, I’m not disputing that. But I _know_ Thomas. I have a conflict of interest that might interfere with Cody’s treatment.”

“What _conflict of interest_ could you have?” Alexander asks.

“My desire to punch Thomas Jefferson in the fucking face, and the fact that I have the opportunity to actually do it.”

“...that’s fair,” Alexander concedes after a moment of thought. “Who is it?”

“A doctor named Benjamin Franklin. He’s the best psychiatrist in this hospital, and I’ve already called him. He owes me a favor, so he’s taking Cody’s case.” Peggy hesitates, Alexander can see the bad news in her eyes.

“What is it Peggy?” He asks. She grimaces.

“Cody...he’s not happy about being hospitalized. We had to sedate him. I can keep him here involuntarily because of his self-harm and his delusions, but I can’t keep him here forever. Eventually, the self-harm period will run out and he’ll be able to check himself out whenever he wants. On top of that, I...unless Cody or a judge says otherwise, I can’t keep Jefferson from visiting.”

“ _What_ -”

“Believe me Alex, I know it’s not perfect. And I’m guessing that, without some sort of breakthrough, Doctor Franklin has a month before Cody walks out of here and right back to Thomas.” Peggy leans back into her chair, and Alexander can see how upset she is underneath her doctor persona. “It’s far from ideal-”

“Understatement of the year,” Alexander snorts. Peggy frowns at the interruption.

“But it’s better than nothing. Look, if anyone can get through to Cody, Dr. Franklin can. Alexander, you just gotta trust me.”

Alexander sighs. He rubs his face in his hands. “Can I see him?” He asks. Peggy hesitates.

“If you want.”

\-----------

Bad Alex has been in this hospital room for exactly forty minutes and he already hates it. He hates it through the haze of the sedatives they gave him after he tried to fight the large orderlies that had escorted him from the nice psychiatrist’s office and to this cold, sterile hellscape.

He never should have left his apartment, he thinks. Thinking is a struggle, his mind is sluggish and he keeps getting distracted from his train of thought by the fraying edge of the blanket on the hospital bed. Every once in a while, Bad Alex remembers that they took his hair from him and he starts to get angry, but the coolness in his veins won't let him stay angry for long.

Bad Alex wishes Thomas was here.

The door opens, and his drug-addled brain thinks that the universe has granted his wish, that Thomas _is_ here, but it's not. It's Alex, walking into the room quietly and shutting the door behind him. Bad Alex tries to focus his eyes on the other man, but it's all hazy and he’s too tired.

“Hey,” Alex whispers. He leans over Bad Alex’s bed, taking the hand without the IV in his own. Bad Alex swallows, his throat is dry. “How are you doing?”

“I'm all drugged up,” Bad Alex slurs, frowning at the way his mouth seems to fail him.

“I can see that,” Alex says. Bad Alex scowls at him.

“S’not funny.”

“Sorry, you're right.” Alex looks down at him with pity in his eyes and suddenly Bad Alex remembers something. Something that makes his stomach churn and his near-frozen blood boil.

“You… you lied to me,” he croaks out. Alex frowns.

“What?” He asks. Bad Alex’s brows furrow, his face contorts in anger.

“You lied to me. You said I was going to go back home to Thomas after…” Bad Alex trails, his mind giving up on the sentence after his mouth gets caught on the ‘s’ in Thomas’ name for too long. Alex squeezes his hand.

“I said you could if Peggy agreed with you, but she didn't.”

“Yes she did!” Bad Alex insists. Alex frowns.

“Did she say she did?”

Bad Alex coughs. His throat is so dry that it hurts. “No, but she _did_. There's no reason she wouldn't have. Thomas and I love each other. She had to have _seen_ that. I told her!” Bad Alex can feel tears start to gather in his eyes. _I told her_ , he repeats in his head, though his thoughts sound pathetic even to him.

Alex sighs. “Cody-”

“I'm not Cody,” Bad Alex says through clenched teeth. Alex just squeezes his hand harder.

“Cody, I don't think you and Thomas really loved each other.” Alex’s words are quiet, carefully chosen but Bad Alex doesn't want to hear it.

“Shut up,” he mutters.

“I know it feels like you did, but Thomas hurt you.”

“No he didn't shut up.”

“Cody, I need you to think, _really think_ about the last few months. You can't honestly believe that you were happy, that you had a good relationship, that Thomas was treating you right. Making you feel like you weren’t good enough-”

“Shut up, shut up, _shut up!”_ Bad Alex tries to shout, but his voice cracks at the end and he coughs. Alex watches him, his other hand coming up to hold Bad Alex’s hand in both of his. “I’m not good enough, I’m not! Thomas was just telling me the truth and you don’t understand!”

“He wasn’t telling you the truth, he was taking his own problems out on you!” Alex insists. “Cody, listen to me, okay? What Thomas did to you wasn’t alright. It wasn’t _love_.”

Bad Alex’s body goes cold. He suddenly feels winded, like Alex had punched him in the gut. _Thomas loves you_ , he thinks. _He has to._

_He never said he did_. Says a small voice in Bad Alex’s head. _In fact, he told you he_ didn’t _love you._

Bad Alex screws his eyes shut. He doesn’t like this little voice. It sounds far too much like Alex. No, that voice is wrong, _has_ to be wrong. There’s no way Thomas doesn’t love him. Bad Alex can’t believe that part of him would believe Alex’s lies. He jerks his hand out of Alex’ grip. “Get out of here,” he says, voice harsh.

“Cody-”

“Get the _fuck_ out!” Bad Alex snaps. “Get away from me. I don’t want to hear your lies anymore.” The tears are starting to fall now, he can feel them start to smudge the makeup on his face, but he turns his face away and buries it in the pillow. He feels betrayed, he had put his trust into Alex, the one person he shouldn’t have, and now he’s stuck here. What he wouldn’t give to have Thomas here instead of Alex, to have Thomas talk to the doctors and make them understand. To have Thomas gather Bad Alex into his arms and walk him out of this cold hell.

At least Alex gets up and leaves without another word. That’s a small mercy. Bad Alex sobs into the pillow until the combined effects of the day and the drugs exhaust him and he falls asleep.

\-----------

_I never should have trusted Alex_.

Alexander doesn’t think Cody meant to say that out loud, and maybe that’s the worst part. It feels like Cody’s words have slapped him, kicked him in the stomach and knocked the wind out of him all at once. He had almost spoken back, almost argued.

_This is for the best. I did this to help you,_ he would have said, if he had thought it would have made a difference. _You hate this now but one day, you’ll thank me_. Which is a dumb comeback that even Alexander hates. _I’m sorry Cody, please just hold on. Give it time_. Which, again, wouldn’t have changed a damn thing.

That doesn’t stop him from asking Peggy if there’s somewhere he can stay close by. She points him to a motel a block away. Alexander gets a room and pays for the best Wi-Fi. He’s going to need it. He plugs in his laptop and settles onto the lumpy mattress. He has work to do if he’s going to help Cody as much as possible.

It takes him three google searches and twenty minutes on Facebook to find Cody’s parents. David and Teresa Shuck, from some suburb in Ohio. Teresa’s Facebook page is covered with pictures of her son and the rest of her family. The most recent post of hers is lovingly captioned “Throwback Thursday!!!” and is a picture of Cody when he was five. The little, smiling boy in the picture looks nothing like the broken man Alexander left in the hospital. He finds Teresa’s phone number and dials it without calling. He has to take a few moments to prepare himself before he hits the call button.

It rings for a moment, and Alexander feels his heart climb into his throat. Then:

“Hello, Shuck residence.” The voice on the other end of the line is light, kind, welcoming. Alexander has to remind himself to speak before the silence stretches on too long.

“Hi, is this Teresa Shuck?” He asks, his own voice deceptively cold, like a telemarketer. He bites his lip, wishing he was doing anything else right now. He stares at the photo of five-year-old Cody, reminding himself why he’s doing this at all.

“Yes, may I ask who this is?”

Alex has to take a breath. “This is Alexander Hamilton. I’m up in New York, calling about your son Cody.”

Teresa gasps, but she sound excited as she says: “Is this about a job? Well, I’m sorry but Cody isn’t here, you’re going to have to call him on his own phone, but-”

Alexander can’t listen any more. He cuts the poor mother off. “No, this… this isn’t about a job.” There must be something in his voice that gives it away because Teresa goes silent, and Alexander can’t figure out how to start breaking the news.

“Is he alright?” She asks, her voice betraying no emotion but concern. Alexander swallows, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Physically he’s fine, ma’am,” he starts, wincing at how horrible of a beginning that is. “But, uh, well…”

\-----------

Thomas doesn’t sleep that night. Which means James doesn’t either, watching Thomas like a hawk to make sure that the taller man doesn't leave the house. They watch late-night talk tv and soap operas, eventually falling into their usual routine of making fun of whatever they’re watching.

The tense air never disappears, though. Thomas can feel that this is simply a reprieve from the storm. The eye of the hurricane.

The other side hits at four in the morning when his phone rings and it’s Angelica Schuyler.

“ _Thomas Jefferson you mother fucking prick what did you do to make my sister this pissed at you and why can’t she tell me under patient-doctor confidentiality_?”

He hangs up without responding. That doesn’t stop Angelica from calling him again and again or texting him until Thomas’ phone threatens to shut down under the onslaught.

\----------

Alexander picks the Shucks up at the airport the next morning and drives them to the hospital. He watches them disappear into the lobby carrying the posters and playbills Alexander had grabbed the day before.

He sits in the parking lot for a few minutes. He looks at the clock on his dashboard; it reads 5:04 am. Alexander smiles bitterly to himself when he realizes it’s only been a little over twelve hours since he first met Cody. He lets his forehead drop to his steering wheel, questioning how his life ended up like this. He sits there, trying to figure out what he’s done to wind up here, in a hospital parking lot at 5:04, concerned over the life of a boy he hasn’t even known for a day.

More importantly, he’s figuring out what _exactly_ he is going to do to Thomas Jefferson the next time he sees that bastard’s face.

**Author's Note:**

> This series is also not supposed to have a fifth part but it's going to.
> 
> End me.
> 
> (On a side note I think this is the Worst PartTM so far and I'm sorry.)


End file.
